Oxygen
by hiddensoullover
Summary: [OneShot Prequel to 'If Only'] Pansy and Hermione get trapped in Trelawney's closet one day and discover some of the benefits of the lack of air...AND schoolmates! WARNING: FEMSLASH! ShojoAi!


**WARNING: THIS ONESHOT CENTERS ON GIRL/GIRL PAIRINGS, OTHERWISE KNOWN ARE YURI, FEMMSLASH, OR JUST PLAIN LESBIANISM! **

_**If you don't like it, don't read, if you don't read, don't flame. Okay? Thank you.**_

**A/N: I believe that I have left many people wondering and scratching their heads after reading 'If Only', (in the Cho x Hermione section). Many people wanted to know how in the world Hermione and Pansy got together, and so, I decided to write this. I hope everyone likes it and sends me some reviews!**

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It is all Trelawney's fault. If that witch had used her brain and picked two different people this would never have happened. If she hadn't sent Granger and me to get some things from the closet of the Divination's room while everyone else was outside doing some stupid assignment, then Granger and I wouldn't be here, stuck in this stupid closet, and pointedly ignoring each other. It is all bloody boring and not to mention irritable.

Granger in herself is irritable. If she hadn't been so easily angered then she wouldn't have been arguing with me instead of minding the door, and wouldn't have allowed it to close, locking us inside of the closet.

I steal a glance over at the Gryffindor, and raise an eyebrow when I see that she's blatantly staring right back at me. She doesn't even blink when I scowl at her, and that causes me to grow curious. Maybe I should say something. Anyway, if we're going to be stuck in this closet for a long time we're going to at least have to speak to each other. "Aren't you afraid I'll take this opportunity and hex you out of your skin, mudblood? You should, you know."

Her eyes narrow as she glares at me, yet she doesn't seem at all frightened, which just serves to tick me off even more. "Don't be so _dense_, Parkinson. There are only the two of us locked inside of this closet, and when they find us, if I'm injured or hurt they can only blame you."

_ Point taken_. Glaring as I see Draco do, I decide that if I am to become Lady Malfoy one day I should at least master that insufferable glare, and maybe the smirk as well. There is much silence as I am lost in my little world, stomach hurting at the thought of marrying Draco. Sure, he is the only student here with the bloodline pure enough for my parents to want as a son-in-law, yet since we'd been engaged since my birth, I really don't have a choice. Merlin knows that I don't love him. He's a friend of some sort. Mother says that I will outgrow the friendship-love once we're married. I can only hope that she is right.

"Doesn't it ever tire you?"

I look up at Granger with confused frown. "What are you talking about?"

"That frown." Granger exclaims rather exasperated all of a sudden as she points to my face. "I mean, I've never seen you without a frown, smirk or scowl on your face. You'll have wrinkles before you're thirty."

I hate myself when my hands begin to trace the small lines already on my face. Everyone knows that Malfoys appreciate beauty.

"You're a pretty girl and you'd look pretty attractive if you'd just smile once in a while."

My eyes widen and I turn to look at her, seeing that she is suddenly very red and looking down at her hands. Why was I blushing as well? I've heard people talk about me. Some say that I'm beautiful; others say I have the nose of a pug. I don't think I have the nose of Draco Malfoy, but my nose _isn't_ that of a pug. My parents would never allow it.

Still, even though I have been called stunning, it hasn't caused me to blush. The sincerity in this mudblood's voice as she unwillingly gives me a compliment has me blushing, and that is curious. Draco's few compliments cause me great joy, because they mean that even for right now I have pleased him. Yet, Granger's unwittingly given compliment sends my heart racing.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I used to have an eensy weensy teeny weeny crush on her when I was younger. But it is completely gone by now. Yep, it is! I do not have butterflies in my stomach when she looks in my direction. I do _not_ feel l like I have to insult her or call her Mudblood whenever she turns those intense brown orbs on me because otherwise I'll kiss her or say something stupid. No. I've matured.

Oh Merlin, she's looking at me again. Has she noticed that I've been looking at her? Has she noticed how deep in thought I am? What to do? What to say?

"Mudblood, I'm bored."

She seems to have returned to normal by now, because all she does is re-accommodate herself and sigh, giving me another bored look from under her long, dark eyelashes. Minutes pass in silence as she just stares uninterestedly in my direction before she looks down at her nails and I'm surprised that they aren't chipped or that her fingers aren't messed with ink. "Well, so am I, _pureblood_."

My eyebrow rises at that. I move so that my back is completely against the wall and I'm looking right at her. Since our backs are against the opposite walls our feet are nearly touching those of each other, yet we keep them stiff as to avoid contact. Now I am looking right into that face of hers. "Well, _mudblood_, I think you should entertain me. Sing, hum, mumble, tell some of the stupid jokes Weasley must have taught you." I see the heat of anger rising in her neck, tainting her skin, and I find myself unable to stop. "Let's play royal court. I'm the queen and you're the jester. Entertain away."

"I'm _not_ playing any stupid games with you." The brunette mumbles, leaning her head back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling, which Trelawney has charmed so that paper creatures float in the air. "I just wish that some of the opening spells I know would open this damn door so I can get rid of you. Who thought Trelawney _knew_ such powerful spells as this one?"

Odd, how insulted I am at the fact that she wants to get rid of me. Instead of pointing that out, I just give her a smirk and resume my role as snotty Slytherin Princess. "Someone write Witch's Weekly! Quick! Hermione Know-It-All Granger doesn't know a spell to get us out! What has the world come to?" I place a hand over my face for dramatic effect, and I wait for a moment before peeking through my fingers, to gleefully see that she's as annoyed with me as I am with her.

"You're such a prat." She mumbles under her breath, folding her arms over her chest.

"And you're such a Know-It-All."

"Well, I think I've proven that I _don't_ know it all, haven't I?" Granger asks testily, raising an eyebrow at me.

Darn it if I haven't just lost my best barb. "Well, you're still an annoying mudblood."

"And you're an insufferable pureblood."

I'm beginning to lose my calm, and the fact that she's all icily collected makes my blood boil. Have I lost my touch? I used to be able to get her angry and sputtering when I would tease her, yet now she doesn't seem to be affected. And why the heck am I so angry at the fact that I don't affect her anymore? "Do you really think I'm pretty?"

Her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open. She closes her mouth, opens it again, and then closes it shut as if she were about to say the wrong answer to a N.E.W.T. question. There are seconds of silence as she keeps her untrusting eyes on mine, and then she lowers them and looks at her hands once more, her pink tongue appearing from between her lips to moisten them.

Why the heck are my eyes following that motion?

"Yes, I think you're pretty." This is said in such a reluctant mumble that I nearly miss it.

"I think you're pretty too." It is out before I know what I'm saying, and my eyes go round, nearly as round as hers. I begin to sweat and I look at my damp hands. "For a mudblood, of course." What the _heck_ is going on with me?

I need to get out of here now! I really need to get out of here! I've hear that lack of oxygen will do strange things to people and I need to get out and get a good amount of oxygen to my brain because I really mean what I just said. I really am beginning to think that the mudblood is pretty. Her hair is beginning to look tempting to touch, and I am noticing her lips once more, which are now moistened from the journey of her pink tongue.

_ Stop thinking about lips and tongues, especially since they are mudblood lips and tongues! FEMALE lips and tongues!_

Looking up at the ceiling as Granger had been doing, I begin to shake my legs rather nervously, placing my complete attention on those paper animals floating up in the air. Why isn't someone coming to look for us? Haven't we been here enough for them to realize that we might be missing?

"Do _you_ really think I'm pretty?"

That whisper catches me off guard, because no matter _how_ softly she said it, the sound seems to bounce off of the walls and surround me. I've never heard the mudblood sound so vulnerable, and I force myself to keep my eyes on the paper animals. This is the time every Slytherin wishes to have. This is the opportunity they have to be able to crush the seemingly invincible Gryffindor Know It All, and here I have it. This opportunity has been bestowed on Pansy Parkinson. All I have to do is snort, laugh, and tell her that of course I don't think she is pretty. I'd just felt sorry for her.

Yet I am looking up at floating paper animals, hesitating. What sort of Slytherin am I? What sort of Parkinson am I? What sort of future Malfoy am I?

"Yes, I think you're very pretty."

When the _heck_ had I just said that? _Oh Merlin…Oh MERLIN! What have I DONE?_

I force myself to look at her, quite unsure of what I'll see, and I blink in surprise and slight confusion when I notice that she's smiling rather timidly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." That is the first time I think anyone in Slytherin and Gryffindor have ever had such a polite conversation. I wonder if I should say something snide about her just to balance things off, yet I let the opportunity slide once more, realizing that I won't get any personal satisfaction from it.

"Do you really love Malfoy?"

"Draco and I are none of your business." I reply coldly, wincing slightly when I see her grow tense. "So I have no reason to tell you that we were engaged from childhood and while neither loves the other, we need to do this. This is what our parents want and we must honor our parents' wishes."

"But you act, um, very, uh, _clingy,_ with Malfoy."

"I know how I act, thank you very much." I comment rather snidely, making a face at her. She doesn't seem bothered by the face, as if waiting for me to continue. It irks me to see that Granger isn't affected by my taunting, teasing, or my snide remarks. She seems quite immune to me and I am going to have to find new ways to get under her skin. "It befits a Malfoy's ego for the woman he is to marry to act as if he is god on earth."

"I could never do that."

I opened my mouth to tell her that I couldn't care _less_ what she could or couldn't do, but at the same time I was about to say this there seemed to be an explosion of some sort from below us. My guess is that some incompetent Longbottom-like student caused a cauldron to explode, and the next thing I knew, the rack above us fell towards the door and in a split second I grabbed Granger and pulled us further into the darkness of the closet and out of danger. The rack fell where we had been sitting moments before, and now I am laying on top of a very nicely shaped Granger.

One of my thighs is resting between hers, and I just look into those brown orbs, trying to remember that this is the mudblood Granger I'm currently on top of with no way to get off of since the whole closet has switched around due to the explosion and we have very little space left.

We're both breathing hard, and I'm trying to blame it on shock and lack of oxygen. I'm _desperately_ trying to blame it on lack of oxygen.

"You saved me." She says in a voice filled with wonder.

I am glad for the darkness in this part of the closet, because I am sure that I must be blushing. "Oh lay off it, Granger. I might dislike you but I don't exactly want you dead. As you said before, if something happens to you they'll think it was my doing, and no matter what you little Gryffindors think about us Slytherins, we are _not_ waiting for the right opportunity to show the Dark Lord our loyalty and go straight to Azkaban." She's shivering slightly beneath me, and I frown. "Are you cold?"

"Not at all. It's quite the opposite actually." That's whispered in a deeper voice than I had ever heard Granger use before, and I would have to be deaf if I don't find it attractive. "Are you planning on staying on top of me?"

Now I blush and I try getting off of her, but things have fallen all around us, using up any space I might have been able to sit down on. So I snort in annoyance and sit down on top of her, straddling her. "There's no place to go." My hands fumble around and I find a cloak. Before I know what I'm doing I am forming a bundle out of it and I place it beneath her head so that the hard floor won't hurt her head. We're both shocked at my actions and I just decide to fold my arms over my chest before they do something else so very embarrassing without consulting me before.

_ Stupid Pansy_. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I bite my bottom lip when I hear Granger make a little sound underneath me as I wiggle around to get into a more comfortable position, and I find the noise sexy. _Need. Oxygen_. _Fast._

Shaking my head, I look around this closet, trying to think of a way to get out of here before I jump the girl in my delusional state of being. Well, it wouldn't be much of a difference from what I am doing now. _Don't think about that._ I suddenly squeak when I feel her hands on my thighs.

"I was lying." Granger whispered, and I close my eyes and whimper slightly when I feel her hands roam up my thighs, pushing the skirt higher as she went. "Maybe I _do_ want to play a little game with you."

This should be wrong. This should be _very_ wrong. Yet if she stops I will be such a bitch she'll have to continue. She'll be forced to continue this sweet torture.

Would it be like this with Draco?

"I _will _marry Draco after we graduate this year. I have to." I whisper, nearly groaning when she stops for a second. I cry out at the sensations running through me.

"I know that." She is silent for a second. "And I know that we would never be able to tell our friends about this while it lasts."

I lean over her. "You _do_ know that with that explosion people won't come searching for us for a long time."

I see a small smile appear on her face. "Oh _really_? How am I going to support your weight on top of me all that time, pureblood?"

I smirk. "And I'm still bored, Granger."

"We're in a pickle then." She placed a finger to her mouth as if she is thinking something very seriously, before she smiles. "You know, if we panic we'll use up all the oxygen we have left."

"Then let's not breathe." And with that, I lower my lips to hers. When she begins responding I nearly cry out at the sensations running through my body.

I know that this isn't going to be the last time I am with her, and I know that it isn't going to last forever. I know that I will graduate and marry Draco Malfoy as our parents want it to be, and I know that Hermione Granger will show the whole wizarding world that her blood isn't going to keep her down. She will show them the powerful witch she is, and I'll be the proudest person when she does so.

I also learnt something that day that I'll never forget.

When you are with Hermione you don't _need_ oxygen.

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**I hope that you all liked it! This was a challenge for me! Lol. I hope it was worth the hours of hitting my head on the keyboard to try and figure out how to write it!**


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